


The Fairest of Them All

by ChampagneSly



Series: Top Ten [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-29 03:50:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChampagneSly/pseuds/ChampagneSly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As part of the "Top Ten Verse," which is a series of interconnected fics about Denmark & Norway's long shared past, this story takes place in June 2005, with the celebration of Denmark's birthday at the Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen, site of the very interesting Cabinet of Mirrors.</p><p>A jealous Norway makes a play to remind Denmark how good he's got it, only to willing have the tables turned on him as Denmark makes a special birthday request. The indulgent intersection of smut and history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_June 5th, 2005_

“Looks like West and Denmark are having an awesome time together, doesn't it?” Prussia said without being asked, his voice irritating like nails on a chalk board.

Norway turned and attempted to give this most unwanted interloper his sharpest, _“what in this universe would make you think I wanted your worthless opinion,”_ glare, his posture going frozen and rigid with obvious dislike in the face of Prussia's leering, shit-stirring grin.

Prussia's awful smile and drunken eyes gave away his desire to prod Norway into some sort of conflict, his inbred need for fighting making itself known even now, at this supposedly civilized and modern celebration. Norway rued the fact that he hadn't deigned to take more of an active interest in planning this little birthday party of Denmark's, which was currently in full raucous swing in the Knight's Hall of the Rosenborg Palace. With so many nations milling about, many drunk off of Denmark's good cheer, that Norway was vaguely concerned for the continued existence of the Hall's Scanian War tapestries.

Had he given into Denmark's relentless pleas for help, perhaps he could have ensured that the only invitation Prussia received was one to go fuck himself.

Prussia laughed and swung an arm over Norway's shoulders, his hand waving carelessly towards the two men huddled together across the room as he leaned into to whisper mockingly, “I bet on the soul of Old Fritz that Denmark's trying to convince West how great it would be for both of them to form a more _intimate and lasting_ connection. Look it, Denmark's practically begging for it!”

Norway's jaw was clenched so tightly his teeth were beginning to ache, feeling as though his skin was starting to itch from extended contact with the Prussian plague, and unable to keep his gaze from falling on Germany and Denmark's little tete-a-tete. Germany looked vaguely constipated as always, trying to avoid the great idiot's enthusiastic flailing, until, much to Norway's annoyed surprise, his lips started to twitch in the smallest semblance of a smile as Denmark clinked their beers together and favored him with a wide and sunny grin.

Prussia's fingers were digging into his shoulder, distracting him from the spike of heat rising up his throat and the clenching of his fists as he watched Denmark slap Germany's back and tip his head back in obvious happy laughter.

“Damn,” Prussia said with far too much pleasure for Norway's taste, “West sure seems receptive. Do you think Denmark's gonna ask him to blow out his birthday candle?”

Norway closed his eyes and took a long, steadying, breath, refusing to be bested by such weak and amateurish attempts to goad him, before shaking off Prussia's disgusting and presumptuous arm and hissing out, “I've no need to share my thoughts with you, Lack-Land, but I suppose I can see why you take such an active interest in your brother's affairs, since you're permitted existence on this world only through his misguided sentimentality.”

Norway smirked and licked his lips in response to the flicker of impotent rage that flared in Prussia's eyes, took a casual drag from his drink as he stared at Prussia with cold amusement until the sound of Denmark's loud cackling and enthusiastic praising of Danish-German relations cut through their silent stand-off.

He set his drink down, sparing Prussia with one last bored gaze, stating blandly, “Denmark is an idiot. Loud, foolish, and ridiculous. But at least he matters, unlike some pathetic dissolved and disgraced wastes of the air I am breathing.”

Without paying heed to Prussia's incendiary response, Norway started to cross the vast expanse of the great hall, deeply annoyed to feel something as unnecessary as jealousy burning in his chest as he observed the friendly hold Denmark had on Germany's shoulder, mind working overtime even as his expression remained as placid and untouched as ever. The threads of a plan started to weave around his envy, tying it in knots as he walked under chandeliers and a ceiling of Denmark's coat of arms, painted in the times when they were joined together in union, his own mark left indelibly in the form of the crowned lion carrying a golden ax. He had many memories of this palace, of days spent at Denmark's side, silent and subdued, so infrequently looked to by their shared kings as they knelt before the coronation chair and pledged their fealty.

And now here he was, in this same great hall of King Christian's summer palace, watching Denmark give his smiles and attention to another as the room buzzed with happy voices celebrating yet one more year of Denmark's long life...a life to which Norway had always been the most privy, the most connected and intertwined, for more centuries than he cared to count.

_And if he had learned anything in all those many years, it was that Denmark an easily manipulated fool...._

_And if Denmark loved anything, it was Norway and Norway's tender affections._

“Germany, I hope this fool isn't being troublesome,” Norway said as he sidled next to Denmark, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the satisfied spread of his smile at bay as Denmark instantly turned his face away from Germany, handsome features flushed with surprise at Norway's sudden gregariousness.

Germany shook his head and looked askance as he answered stiffly, “Not at all. We've been speaking of the on-going bridge discussions in our respective parliaments.”

“Yeah, Norge! Don't you think it would be awesome for commerce and all that good stuff if there was another handy-dandy bridge or tunnel connecting me to this guy?” Denmark enthused, holding out one hand in the universal thumbs-up gesture of overly eager idiocy.

Norway deliberately kept his focus on Germany, eyes turned towards him even as he calmly placed a hand on Denmark's wrist, denying him attention but not touch as he spoke, voice a mocking caress, “I am certain you feel quite persuaded by such nuanced and intelligent arguments. I can't imagine a better way to spend an evening than letting the man of the hour monopolize your valuable time with his brilliantly articulated visions of the future.”

Germany began to look even more uncomfortable, his polite grin starting to crumble as Norway continued to stare at him with bland disinterest while he stroked idle fingers along Denmark's wrist, until, much to Norway's pleasure, he broke under the silent strain and mumbled some excuse about needing to rescue Italy from Russia, turned heel and beat a hasty retreat across the room.

“Damn,” Denmark said as they watched Germany amble stiffly away, “I didn't get a chance to hit him with all my really good arguments.”

Norway stifled the urge to roll his eyes, lacing their fingers together to command Denmark's full and undivided attention with the unusual sign of affection, keeping his voice light and unaffected as he murmured, "Well, I won't keep you from it...but I wanted to tell you that as it is your birthday, I have decided to honor your request.”

Denmark smiled at him, looping an arm around his waist even as he continued to peer over his shoulder at Germany, chirping out an unthinking, “Great!” before his brow furrowed with stupidly appealing confusion as he asked, “Wait, what request?”

Norway shrugged casually, dragging his nails along the rough lines of Denmark's palm as he answered, “I thought that perhaps you'd picked Rosenborg for your party for a reason, but maybe I was wrong. I should know better than to presume forethought from a fool.”

He waited and watched Denmark's obvious confusion slowly give way to realization, his eyes darkening and his lips parting to let out a low, impressed whistle as he pressed their hips together, letting Norway feel the apparent power of his suggestion.

Denmark's voice was rough and hot as he leaned down to whisper, “That was almost a hundred years ago. I can't believe you remembered, Norge.”

“Oh? I'd just been waiting for a _special_ occasion,” Norway answered, letting his tongue touch the warmth of Denmark's jaw.

“You're so amazing," Denmark sighed appreciatively, his hand drifting lower to rest possessively over the curve of his hip. "You wanna do this now?” Denmark asked, though he was already beginning to shift their feet away, only to be halted by Norway as he interrupted their progress with false demureness:

“Are you sure you want to leave your guests? Your important conversations?”

Denmark winked and pulled him close as he growled, “Fuck 'em. Its my party and I'll fuck _you_ if I want to.”

“If that's what you want, I won't argue. It is your birthday after all,” Norway murmured before his victorious smile was smothered by Denmark's dirty, open mouthed kiss before they made a hasty and not very clandestine retreat.


	2. Chapter 2

When they stumbled into the small antechamber tucked inside the King's most private and resplendent quarters, Norway expected to be led directly into this infamous mirror closet and summarily unwrapped like the birthday gift he intended to be. However, when he pulled away from Denmark's insistent, clinging grasp to try and saunter seductively out of the tiny darkened room towards the reflective shine of the mirrors, he was surprised to find his progress halted with one hand caught in Denmark's warm, slick grasp as a taunting voice whispered, “Tsk, tsk, Norge. That's not at all how it's done.”

Norway stopped, letting Denmark pull him against the firmness of his chest and rising hardness, licking his lips as he looked around the room, seeing nothing of particular interest beyond the chaise lounge and usual regal frippery.

Denmark chuckled lowly, the sound rumbling against Norway's ear as he turned them both around to shuffle towards a cabinet full of curiosities, “You gotta understand, King Freddie IV, he had a tried and true method for maximizing the potential of these rooms.”

“Only the Danes would come up with something so ostentatiously perverse,” Norway mumbled under his breath while Denmark continued to lead him forward.

“Heh, technically we stole this shit from one of France's, but who's keeping score?” Denmark said with obvious pride before slipping a hand under Norway's shirt to splay his fingers across his stomach, warm and inviting skin on skin, as he continued, “So, first he'd take his lady of the night upstairs, give her a little wine, a little flattery, and then he'd bring her here to look at his collection of....art.”

Norway peered through the glass clouded by age at the assortment of cuttings, paintings, and statuettes all of men and women tangled in love's embrace, breath catching as Denmark bit down on the lobe of his ear and stroked his fingers along the top of his pants, teasing open the top button.

“And then,” Denmark breathed hotly against his neck, “When they were all properly titillated and sighing in a way unbecoming of a lady of the court, Freddie would take them over to this very fainting couch...”

Norway rolled his eyes at the naked ladies forever winking at him in the cabinet, breaking free of Denmark's hold to settle on the chaise of his own freewill while Denmark shrugged off his sudden departure and bent down to run his fingers along the cabinet until the alighted upon a hidden compartment.

Norway watched with badly concealed interest as Denmark's face broke into a smug grin and his hand reached into a small alcove, emerging with a small bottle that could only contain one thing.

“Ahhh, just where it was supposed to be!” Denmark said as he vaulted over the side of the antique couch with his prize.

Norway arched an eyebrow and shifted away, voice dripping with scorn as he eyed the bottle, “You are an even bigger idiot than I imagined if you think three hundred year old lubricant is coming anywhere near me.”

Denmark smirked at him and ran his fingers up his pants to circle the bones of his ankle as he responded, “Please. Do you really think I'd take such risks with your ass? I like to pay homage to Old Freddie by keeping his favorite place well-kept and well-stocked.”

Norway let out a breath and pushed his foot into Denmark's lap, allowing his fingers trail up the curve of his calf to tease under his knee, mumbling quietly, “This is no way reassures me as to the depths of your intelligence. You do seem to know far too much about the less savory habits of Frederick.”

Denmark leaned forward, pitching between the immediate parting of Norway's legs to rest between his thighs, smile mischievous and unashamed as he confessed, “Mmm, King Frederick used to have me watch his little rendezvous back in the day. Something about wanting his nation to witness firsthand the potency of his king. Always sex and war with that guy.”

Norway's lips turned down in an unimpressed but unsurprised frown as he started unbuttoning Denmark's shirt, thinking of the long wars with Sweden that marked those days as he mocked, “Sounds strangely familiar.”

Denmark nipped at the corner of his mouth, growling playfully while he ran a hand across Norway's cock, pressing down until Norway arched up a little, sighing darkly.

He pushed the shirt from Denmark's shoulder's, tracing his tongue along his collarbone, murmuring with evident amusement, “That does explain so very much about your...proclivities...during those years.”

Denmark smiled wolfishly, cocking his head to the side to make way for the wandering warmth of Norway's mouth, “I know, right? All that looking and no touching, it was enough to make me crazy. Voyeurism's not my thing. Not nearly enough me or you involved to make it worth my while.”

“You never said anything about these little encounters. Just marched your way into my chambers and pestered me into letting you into my bed,” Norway said coolly, halting the progress of the fingers that were steadily making their way towards Denmark's pants.

Denmark sat back on his heels, holding one hand over his heart, as he explained himself, “I made an oath to King Frederick never to reveal his secrets. Like America's always saying, what happens in the mirror room stays in the mirror room.”

Norway gazed up at him inscrutably, lounging against the arm of the sofa and rubbing his leg against Denmark's side as he queried, “And such an oath excluded even me, though he was technically my king as well?”

Denmark shrugged, “It was a promise between two men. I had to honor that. It was a harmless, if kinda kinky, connection that brought me and my king together.”

Threading his fingers into Denmark's wild hair to pull him close, Norway asked, voice deliberately bland, “Is that what you want with Germany? A harmless connection that brings you together?”

Denmark's smile turned knowing as he leaned forward to touch his forehead to Norway's, pushing their bodies together as he whispered, breath hot across Norway's lips, “You're cute when you're jealous, Norge.”

Annoyed at having been caught out, Norway rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to protest such an idiotic claim, only to have his words fall away in confusion when Denmark pulled away and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, spearing Norway with a look that spoke of both hope and resignation. Norway felt a queer sense of unease start to churn in his gut, apprehension building as he waited to hear what Denmark had to say for himself, almost entirely sure of where this conversation was suddenly going.

Denmark looked at him determinedly, cupping Norway's jaw in his large palm as he said with urgent warmth, “But if you'll recall, I once offered to make you the kind of promise that kinda gets rid of all that jealousy...”

Norway swallowed and stifled the urge to sigh, heart fluttering wildly in his chest as he tried to stave-off any further reminders of what he'd silently refused once upon a time not so long ago, softly murmuring, “Denmark...”

He could tell that Denmark was about to press the subject further, to send them both careening down a path he wasn't prepared to walk, ruining their evening and torpedoing any happy memories that Denmark might have had of this latest birthday.

And so Norway turned to the oldest trick in his book when it came to redirecting all of Denmark's stubborn fire, reaching up to wind his arm around his neck and draw their mouths together in a deep and lingering kiss, teasing passion out of obstinacy, drowning Denmark's doubts in desire.

He felt Denmark's frustration ripple in the tension of his arms as he sucked his tongue into his mouth and bit down lightly, pouring himself into the kiss as he hooked his leg around Denmark's back, pulling him so close that their limbs tangled and spilled over the narrow confines of the chaise. Desperately, Norway sighed and moaned and pushed up under Denmark, dragging their cocks together in a distracting, dirty shimmy, licking the pout of Denmark's bottom lip and embracing him with rare heated fervency until something shook loose in the man holding him in his arms and all his intent shifted wickedly towards the wanton.

When Norway broke from their kiss to press his lips to the sharp ridge of Denmark's jaw, teeth edging along his growling hum of his throat, he felt Denmark's strong fingers toying with the royal ring that had not left his finger in almost one hundred years and he knew that the subject had only been tabled, not discarded.

Feeling conciliatory and unexpectedly generous, Norway shifted up to climb into Denmark's lap, rocking up and down in a delicious little tease before he whispered into Denmark's always eager ear, “Well, you've finally got me here in the fabled mirror cabinet, Danmark. Care to make it interesting?”

Denmark palmed his ass through his pants, bringing him to rest more firmly over his dick, smirk lascivious as he said, “Hmm, someone _does_ have something to prove tonight! In that case, you up for something a little special?”

Norway kissed him hard and deep for a long moment, punishing Denmark for such a ridiculous claim, before exhaling, “I'm listening. No matter how idiotic, you are the birthday boy.”

Denmark surged up from the chaise, catching Norway off-guard as he propelled them both to their feet with forceful enthusiasm, the clutch of his fingers and the sudden heat in his eyes setting Norway's nerves and desire on edge as he waited to hear what it was that Denmark would ask of him in this closet of clandestine pleasures.

Denmark grabbed his hair, pulling his head back roughly as he slid their lips together too briefly to whet Norway's growing need before gentling his touch to cup Norway's face and press butterfly light kisses to his cheeks and the corners of his eyes.

“Norge,” Denmark murmured, his own eyes fallen shut as he stroked his fingers along the skin of Norway's neck and throat, “How do you feel about a little submission?”

Norway knew that Denmark could feel the sudden catch in his breath, the abrupt swallow while his cock jumped and his cheeks heated with interest.

“I'm amenable,” Norway said, struggling to maintain the flatness of his voice as he leaned further into Denmark's touch, “what do you have in mind?”

Denmark smiled, rewarding him with another lingering, dirty kiss before he stepped away and took Norway's hand to finally lead him into the glittering mirrored cabinet. He cast his eyes around the room, taking in the wall to wall mirrors, looking up at his reflection in the ceiling that stared back  at him with kiss bitten lips and rumpled hair, until Denmark released him entirely to move away and lean against the wall, crossing his arms over his naked chest and grinning slyly.

“Hmm, no varsity level shit,” Denmark mused while Norway paced across the floor, pulse racing in unexpected anticipation as Denmark continued, “You look too fucking hot for me to keep my hands off you for long.”

Norway stopped at his bare feet brushed against the polished glass of the oval mirror embedded in the wooden floor, glinting in the dim lighting as it completed the four planes of this illicit room. He turned to face Denmark, keeping his heels pressing just against the edge of the oval, arching an eyebrow as he purred, “Get on with it, you fool, before I get _bored_.”

Denmark's gaze sparked and his smile sharpened into something dark and dirty as he answered in a voice equally low and promising, “Eager, huh, Norge? I know the feeling. All those nights in here with Frederick and his women, watching them touch each other, feeling like I was going to lose my fucking mind if I couldn't have you the second I was dismissed.”

Norway licked his lips and pressed his palm over the front of his pants, letting out a breathy, teasing sigh designed to torment.

Denmark chuckled sofly, “No need to play dirty, sweetheart. I'll tell you the rules of the game. You're to follow my every command. You'll say nothing but my name until I give you permission or until I make you come. I'll make you feel so damned good even your reflections will be moaning, _fuck me, Denmark_.”

A shiver ran electrically up Norway's spine, his cock going impossibly harder as he looked at Denmark, carelessly dangerous in his repose against the wall.

“Mmmm, feeling nostalgic for absolutism, are we?”

“Something about this room...and you...just brings it out in me,” Denmark said with a wink before his voice dipped again, “So, how about it?”

Norway closed his eyes, letting his fingers drift over his cock in teasing little circles, knowing that Denmark was watching his every movement, as he nodded his head, once, twice, and whispered:

“Denmark.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Come here,” Denmark said softly, face completely devoid of a smile for once in his silly life, the seriousness of his expression making Norway's heart trip with dark anticipation.

He crossed the few feet between them swiftly and silently until he was standing within the span of Denmark's arms, waiting to be touched, waiting to be told what to do. His breath was already coming in short and sweet as Denmark just continued to lean against the wall and stare at him, gaze heavy and considering, laced with desire and approval, the moment spinning out for so long that Norway felt as though his skin was starting to burn from the intensity of Denmark's distant regard.

Finally, Denmark pushed forward, catching Norway by surprise with the sudden sureness of his movements as he wrapped one arm around Norway's waist and used the other to grab his hair and tilt his head back so that Denmark could breathe out over his mouth, “Don't stop kissing me until I let you go.”

Norway inhaled deeply before letting his lips part in immediate acquiescence, flicking his tongue against his teeth just to watch the surge of delighted heat in Denmark's eyes, welcoming the crushing insistence of Denmark's mouth against his own. What the kiss lacked in gentleness, it made up for in passion, the slide of Denmark's tongue over his promised a night of dirty dreams come to life, the hands that crawled up his spine, the fingers pressing in over each vertebra reminding him with each touch of the power that lay dormant behind Denmark's usual happy grin and easy affection.

As let his body be melded into the shape of Denmark's desire, pliant and pleasured in his supplication, Norway wondered if this sudden intoxication was from the potency of Denmark's kiss or the swimming lack of oxygen in his mind as Denmark continued to steal the breath from his lungs.

Gradually, Denmark slowed the pace of the kiss until their lips were barely brushing against each other and Norway had to resist the urge to throw his hands out and drag Denmark back by force, giving himself over to the feeling of being out of control, placing all his trust in Denmark's ability to give him what they both wanted.

“Good, so fucking good,” Denmark said hotly against his cheek before releasing him and moving away to resume his position against the wall, stroking himself over his pants as Norway stood waiting, breathless and aching.

“Take everything off,” Denmark demanded lowly and Norway found that his hands shook as he rushed to pull the shirt from his shoulders and slide his pants down his legs, kicking away his cumbersome clothes until he stood only in his underwear, slowing his hurried pace to meet Denmark's appreciative stare with hooded eyes.

He smiled a little, soft and dirty, hooking his thumbs under the band and shimmying them over his hips, sighing out in pleasure as the fabric dragged over his dick, letting them fall to his ankles before stepping forward, free and entirely bare, ready and wanting, looking at Denmark.

As he waited, skin flush with pleasure and anticipation, heart thudding and desire pooling heavy and lush in his veins, Denmark stalked towards him, like a predator in the night, coming so close that Norway could feel the warmth of his chest.

The air between them hummed with delicious tension while Denmark circled slowly around Norway, breath spilling out over his body, touching him only with his gaze, denying him the feel of his fingers, hands, lips, and tongue. Norway wondered how it was he could have forgotten what it was to be so teased and tormented, betrayed by his yearning for Denmark's usual hungry embrace, mind going hazy with lust and loss of control.

“Mmm,” Denmark purred tauntingly, holding his hands just inches from the curve of Norway's waist, “Do you want me to touch you?”

Norway tilted his head back to look at his reflection in the ceiling, taken aback by the unrestrained wanting painted across his features, meeting Denmark's knowing and excited gaze in the mirror, nodding his head and mouthing silently, “Denmark.”

He took pleasure in watching Denmark's swallow and the clenching of his fingers where they still remained hovering just out of reach of his skin.

“All in good time, Norge,” Denmark gritted out, “But for now, I want you to go over to the wall...”

Norway obeyed, taking slow and deliberate steps towards the wavering vision of himself in the mirror.

“Put your hands on the glass and spread your legs for me,” Denmark said with more urgency and Norway pushed his slick palms against the glass, taking in the hot blush of his cheeks and the nearly unbearable hardness of his cock as he stood naked and spread, looking in the mirror at Denmark's determined expression.

“Fuck,” Denmark sighed with evident enjoyment of the picture he made, splayed and waiting for orders against the mirror as Norway watched him palm his cock, until he continued, “Now, kiss yourself.”

Norway's saw his eyebrows fly up in surprise as he registered Denmark's request, heart racing as he leaned forward, eyes open wide as he touched his lips to the glass, sliding his tongue out to wet the mirror when he heard the catch of Denmark's breath. He kept his gaze on his reflection in the mirror as he kissed the glass, amazed by the wanton neediness in his expression, the lust and invitation in his eyes and he wondered if he always looked like this, if this is what Denmark saw in him every time they went to bed.

He arched in shocked pleasure at the hot press of Denmark's lips on his back, fingers sliding down the glass fogged by his breathy moan as Denmark dragged his mouth up the slick skin of his spine, until he reached the curve of his neck and bit down. He struggled to keep his eyes open enough to watch Denmark watching him kissing his reflection, his gaze promisingly dark and dangerous.

“Look at you, Norge,” Denmark growled in his ear as his fingers teased along the curve of his ass, dipping down to brush along his balls and tickle the hot skin of his thighs, “You're still the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen. So wicked and wonderful.”

Norway tipped his head back to beg silently for Denmark's kiss, pushing his hips into the too light touch of Denmark's hands, wanting him inside his mouth and inside his body. Denmark chuckled softly, breath stirring Norway's hair as he murmured, “Who do you belong to?”

Norway looked up at their reflection in the ceiling, the two of them tangled together, Denmark cradling him within the expanse of his arms as if he were precious.

He closed his eyes and sighed, “Denmark.”

He was rewarded by the soft, slick, slide of Denmark's tongue against his and the slow tease of one finger moving inside, each kiss and touch deliberately drawing out every hidden piece of his desire. He sighed pleadingly into Denmark's mouth, sucking his tongue between his teeth to bite down gently, wanting feel Denmark come undone, if only at little, so that he would not be the only one adrift on this sea of lust. Norway smiled when Denmark shuddered and groaned, deciding it was worth the risk to push back on Denmark's fingers and and demand more with a needy, breathy gasp.

The sharp, sting of a hand slapping across his ass forced him to break the kiss and lay his forehead on the mirror, his blurred reflection giving away the pleasure he took from the burn of the second slap directly over the mark of the first, his cock jumping at the touch. He arched into press of Denmark against his back, hissing with delight at the feel of teeth scoring across his neck and the hot warning whispered into his ear, “Naughty, naughty, Norge. Did I tell you could do that?”

Norway shook his head against the cool glass, looking at Denmark with false contriteness, the corners of his lips upturned in wicked unrepentance, pleased to see Denmark staring back him undisguised hunger.

“Fuck,” Denmark said fervently, pulling his hands and fingers from Norway to turn him around and shove him against the mirror, kissing him wildly. Norway let his body go lax in Denmark's hold, skin humming with joy at finally being touched without restraint, welcoming the familiar possessive greed of Denmark's fingers pressing into his hips, rubbing his cock against the curve of Denmark's thigh, moaning without reservation into their kiss, wanting Denmark to taste the depths of his lust.

Denmark nipped at his lips, rocking into him so hard that his back was slipping up the glass, feet leaving the ground as Denmark took what he wanted, hands holding him suspended above the floor as he started to shuffled away from the wall.

Norway knew that later, when the lust had cleared and the bruises had faded, he would wonder what it was that made him fall so quickly and so eagerly when Denmark settled them on the oval mirror in the floor and murmured, “I want you on your knees.”

But as soon as the words had hit his ears, he'd gone down, shoving Denmark's pants and underwear off without hesitation, pressing his lips to the tip of Denmark's cock, tasting the salty warmth of his skin until Denmark framed his face between the palms of his hands, tilting it up so they were staring at each other with electric anticipation.

He opened his mouth as Denmark pressed his thumb against his bottom lip, rubbing the tender skin with surprising gentleness.

“Fucking amazing. Above me, below me, on every side, I've got you,” Denmark murmured lowly, eyes glittering with some unreadable emotion as Norway kissed his fingers, casting his gaze around the room to see so many reflections of him, on his knees before Denmark, supplicant and ready. His own cock throbbed at the sight of them together, his heart tripping at the open desire and devotion in Denmark's stare.

Denmark threaded his hands in his hair, pushing his cock slowly into Norway's mouth as Norway let him in without question, bracing his hands on Denmark's thighs. He ran his tongue along the length, hard and hot as it slid between his lips, as he drank down the sound of Denmark's increasingly broken groans, pressing his fingers into the shaking of Denmark's legs.

The hand in his hair tightened painfully as he opened his throat and moved to swallow Denmark deep, Denmark's voice cracking as he breathed out, “Fuck, fuck, who loves you?”

Norway pulled away, stroking his hand down Denmark's slick cock, voice rough and deep as he peered up at Denmark through his eyelashes, murmuring, “Denmark.”

“God, yes,” Denmark answered hotly as Norway ran his tongue over the inside of Denmark's thighs, pressing his lips to his balls and breathing out.

“Touch yourself,” Denmark commanded shakily, “Get ready for me.”

Norway spread his knees on the mirror, looking down as he dipped one hand between his legs, feeling the weight of Denmark's stare as he watched the reflection of slide of his fingers inside his body, a slow, twist that had him sighing as he mouthed the head of Denmark's cock, so ready and so far gone with need and longing he thought he might beg.

Denmark pushed his head back, falling to his own knees, sliding across the mirror to gather Norway to his chest, heart beating wildly against Norway's skin as they kissed, in a messy, demanding wet press of lips and tongues, breath heavy in their lungs.

“Hands and knees,” Denmark growled as the kiss came to a breathless, bitten end. Norway cast one, last, lingering glance at Denmark as he turned to prop up on his hands and knees, gazing at his swollen mouth and hard cock in the glass below as Denmark moved behind him.

Every feeling he had spiraled into the sensation of Denmark pushing inside, hot, hard and fast...all patient restraint cast aside like the virtue Norway wasn't sure he'd ever possessed. He held his breath until he felt the touch of Denmark's thighs against his own, the stretching burn so deliciously welcome and wanted as he watched the silent panting parting of lips in the mirrors beneath him, across from him, above him.

A whole kaleidoscope of Denmark driving into him, hands gripping at his hips as they moved together with demanding, syncopated, thrusts, sighs and moans echoing across the walls, a feast of sight and sound and touch, all drive by desire.

He watched as Denmark dropped his head to give hot, open-mouthed kisses up and down his back, their gaze locked together on the reflection beneath them, enraptured by the naughty slip and slide of Denmark's cock in and out of Norway's body.

When Denmark took his dick in hand, stroking him, Norway's eyes fell shut, his mind white with lust, thinking only of the tightening warmth in his stomach, the shaking of his arms, and the word that was falling from his lips without thought or permission.

 _“Denmark, Denmark, Denmark.”_

He barely registered the sharp intake of Denmark's breath and the jerking of his thrusts as they drove each other towards climax, arching into the twist of Denmark's wrist and pushing back into the cradle of his hips.

“Open your eyes,” Denmark said as he pressed in so deep that Norway knew he would feel it in the early hours of the morning as they lay tangled together in some bed, somewhere.

He opened his eyes to stare at his image in mirror as he came undone, spilling into Denmark's fingers, as his arms and legs gave out, body starting to slip downwards, only to be held in place by Denmark's strong grip as he was pulled up to straddle Denmark's lap, heading lolling back to rest on Denmark's shoulder.

Denmark was panting into his ear, cursing and praising him with sweet nothings as he continued to move inside, slow and erratic as Norway hazily stared at his face in the ceiling. He could feel the desperation in Denmark's touch, the begging need to come in the murmur of his voice. He lifted Denmark's hand to his lips, watching in the mirror as Denmark's eyes flew open when he sucked his fingers into his mouth, tasting himself.

“Holy fuck,” Denmark gritted out as Norway licked each finger clean, his body quivering underneath him as Denmark arched forwards and came.

They fell backwards together to splay out in a tangled web of arms and legs over the now warm glass beneath them, breathing heavily as their debauched doubles stared down at them with satisfied and sleepy pleasure.

Norway turned to meet Denmark's lazy, searching kiss, keeping his eyes open as he memorized the way they looked just like this, sweaty and tumbled with hands intertwined, settling each other with sweet, unfettered affection.

Denmark nuzzled against his neck, whispering, “Who do you love?”

Norway pushed the sweaty hair from his forehead, touching his lips to his warm skin as he murmured, “Idiot.”

He felt the curve of Denmark's smile, amused when Denmark sighed dramatically, “Heh, I guess the game's over, huh? No more doing my bidding?”

“Obviously,” Norway teased without heat, shifting so that Denmark could wrap an arm around his waist, drawing them closer together on the increasingly uncomfortable floor.

"I love it when you say my name like that, Norge...like its the only name you'll ever remember." Denmark purred against his throat, making Norway shiver.

"I take it you enjoyed your birthday?" He asked, voice rich with sleepy amusement.

Denmark answered with a long, lingering kiss that spoke of his happiness and pleasure, pulling back just far enough to murmur, “The best. I think we did the Mirror Room and Old Freddie justice. Remind me to make you jealous more often.”

Norway huffed and rolled his eyes in playful annoyance, “Maybe one year you'll be suddenly blessed with the gift of intelligence. Though I have my doubts.”

“As long as you're there to witness it,” Denmark said with unexpected seriousness, fingers once again toying with the ring on Norway's finger.

Norway smiled softly, touching one hand to Denmark's still racing heart.

“I'm willing to wait for something as monumental as that...Denmark.”

"In it for the long haul, huh?" Denmark said happily, yawning lazily.

Norway closed his eyes.

"What's another thousand years?"


End file.
